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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
FABLE: 16, by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT First Line: Thou poor leaf, so sear and frail Last Line: Glory's laurel, beauty's rose. | |||
THOU poor leaf, so sear and frail, Sport of every wanton gale, Whence and whither dost thou fly Through this bleak autumnal sky? -- On a noble oak I grew, Green and broad, and fair to view; But the monarch of the shade By the tempest low was laid. From that time, I wander o'er Wood and valley, hill and moor, Wheresoe'er the wind is blowing, Nothing caring, nothing knowing; Thither go I whither goes Glory's laurel, Beauty's rose. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LEAF by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT THE SNAIL by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT FOR OUR BETTER GRACES by JAMES GALVIN FORECLOSURE by STERLING ALLEN BROWN TO THE RIVER CHARLES by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ANTONY AND [OR, TO] CLEOPATRA by WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE THE ANGELS OF BUENA VISTA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER TO A. E. HOUSMAN by MARGARET ASH THE HUSBAND'S PETITION by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |
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